


The Friendship of Darcy and Spiderman

by Illusinia



Series: Darcy Stark Series [14]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Thor (2011)
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-14 21:05:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusinia/pseuds/Illusinia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy can't meet anyone under normal circumstances....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Crashing Webslingers and Mallet-Weilding Engineers

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is yet another facet of the Darcy Stark series. Apparently, I put it up on ff.net and never posted it here. For anyone only following this series here, sorry about that.
> 
> Please note, I did take one liberty with spider-man: I added an interest in explosions that he didn't have in the comics because, I mean really, what teenage boy doesn't like blowing things up?

For Darcy, strange didn't exist. Her whole life was strange, classifiable as some kind of weird fairy tale without the magic. Tony Stark was her father, Pepper Potts was her mother, she'd been partially raised by an AI, and she was used to explosions, or at least things that went 'boom'. At 15, there wasn't a lot that could startle her.

 

Especially in New York City, where her workshop was on the 50th floor of Stark Tower. With a killer panorama of glass windows that looked out over the city so she could see anything coming towards her. It wasn't like in California where her workshop was underground. And nothing could really get in because, hey, she was 50 stories up off the street. Plus, anything that did get in would get shot up by Josie before it touched the floor.

 

So when a red-and-blue masked man suddenly came crashing through the window that she'd blown the glass out of the day before (who knew springs were so dangerous?), she nearly jumped out of her skin. And grabbed the first potential weapon on her worktable, which she was currently pressing herself against. Why did stuff always happen when Josie was offline? Seriously, it seemed like every ill-fated experiment and incident in her life happened when Josie was down for maintenance. She could really use the tranq gun right now.

 

For several seconds she stood there, staring at the figure who'd rolled across her floor and crashed into the mechanics toolbox in the middle of the room. When the man groaned, her hand tightened on the improvised weapon. Then relaxed when he raised his head and the media-familiar mask of Spider-man stared up at her.

 

Darcy set down the psudo-weapon (it turned out to be a mallet) and rested a hand on her chest. “Fuckin' Yeti balls, you scared the crap out of me dude.”

 

“Hey, at least you have better ventilation now,” pointed out the web-shooting hero as he slowly rolled so he was sitting up.

 

“Yeah, of the 'random hole' variety,” snorted Darcy with a shake of her head, even as she walked over and offered the man a hand up. “You know, next time just use the door-bell. I promise, it's easier.”

 

“But its far less fun.” The man stared at her hand for a moment, apparently uncertain how to react to her casual attitude. He took her hand none the less, allowing her to pull him up even as he attempted to offer an explanation. “And hey, random holes are all the rage! Look at Tony Stark's place! Seriously though, I will pay for that. Also, sorry for scaring you. I didn't realize there was no glass on the window and-”

 

Darcy just waved a hand like it was no big deal. “Neither did the last three pigeons. That's why I put up the cardboard. Well, that and I didn't want to come in and find something unpleasant in my workshop like, I don't know, a hawk.”

“Falcon,” corrected Spider-man, even as she cocked an eyebrow at him. “Falcons live in the city.”

 

“Eh, falcons, hawks, they're both predator birds with nasty talons,” replied Darcy with a shrug. “Anyway, don't worry about crashing in...Arachnid-man, right?”

 

“Spider-man,” replied Spider-man with pride. “Its Spider-man Miss, er...I'm afraid I didn't catch your name.”

 

“Because I didn't give it, but its Darcy,” she supplied while leaning back against her work table.

 

The man nodded. “Its nice to meet you, Darcy.”

 

“And same here, though I didn't catch your name either.” Darcy turned as she spoke, picking up the cardboard and examining it for damage.

 

Behind her, Spider-man gulped a little. “Spider-man is a perfectly valid name, you know.”

 

“Sure it is,” snorted Darcy. “But just for fun, lets pretend its not.” Pausing, she took in his appearance with a cocked hip and observing eyes. “I'll get it if you don't want to say though. I can relate.”

 

Spider-man leaned back with a casual shrug against a random table covered in parts. “Yeah, I noticed you didn't give your last name.”

 

“Yeah, not gonna lie, I don't trust you with that information.” She props the cardboard against the window before turning towards where there's a mini fridge buried behind a small stack of books. “You drink soda like a normal kid?”

 

“Love the stuff,” confirms Spider-man as he turns to watch her. “So, is that it? No more prying?”

 

Darcy just shrugged and tossed him a soda. “Eh, its not that important.” Popping her own, she leans against the counter behind her and examines him casually. “You're about my age, right?”

 

His eyes drift over her suspiciously. “Depends, what's your age?”

 

“Fifteen,” supplied Darcy. She's given up watching him now and wondered back to her work table.

 

“Close,” confirms Spider-man. “I'm seventeen.” His eyes dart around as he relaxes a little, lifting his mask slightly to take a drink of the soda. “What's with the workshop?”

 

Darcy pokes something on her table that pops, then stands to scribble something illegible on a white-board. “It's mine. My dad's an engineer and was thrilled when he found out I could build stuff too. He set this whole thing up for me.”

 

“Nice,” muttered Spider-man as he pauses to examine a half-built robot sitting on another table. “Did you build all of this stuff?”

 

“Pretty much,” confirmed Darcy as she tilted her head to look at something else on the board before walking over to press a few buttons on a tablet and activating some kind of floor-to-ceiling holographic projector. “Some of the machines and computers Dad helped me build.” Slipping on some gloves, she moves a few things around with her finger-tips. “So what do you do for fun, besides swing around on webs?”

 

Spider-man shrugged. “Go to school, hang out with friends, blow things up. The usual.”

 

The grin Darcy gave him when he mentioned the 'blow things up' bit was a bit worrying. Especially when she looked ready to start bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Seriously? What subject?”

“Chemistry,” replied Spider-man. “What other subject encourages you to make things explode?”

 

“Engineering,” pointed out Darcy, who was still grinning. “But that's more of the 'oh shit I shouldn't have let that spark that way' kind of exploding. Well, that and the 'huh, so _that's_ why you don't weld those two materials together' way.”

 

Spider-man nodded sagely. “So fellow seeker of epic explosions, what do you do in your spare time?”

 

Darcy shrugged casually. “Invent. Blow things up. Listen to music too loud, watch movies, party. The usual.”

 

“Stark-style invent or Tesla-style invent?” asked Spider-man curiously.

 

“A little of column A, a little of column B, and a whole lot of column C,” replied Darcy with the same grin she'd offered him before.

 

Beneath his mask, she could just make out Spider-man's eyebrow rising. “What's in column C?”

 

She couldn't restrain the slightly evil chuckle that escaped her at his question. “C stands for chaos.”

 

“And carbon,” pointed out Spider-man. “Can't forget carbon.”

 

“Very nice,” nodded Darcy in approval. “Spoken like a true chemist. You will make a fine partner in my epic quest for explosions and insane inventions.”

 

Spider-man couldn't help but grin as he offered her his hand. “I have a feeling this is the start of an amazing and possibly world-destroying friendship.”

 

“Possibly world-destroying? I'm pretty sure we're going to destroy something and if it isn't the world, it'll be someone's mind,” corrected Darcy. “You're playing with the big girls and boys now, Spidy. Get ready for chaos and explosions like you've never seen before.”

 

* * *

 

Spider-man quickly became a regular visitor to Darcy's workshop late at night. Especially after she took a look at his web-shooter and started talking about all the crazy upgrades she could make to it. From there, things just kinda happened. Her workshop became a sanctuary to him, complete with random, crazy semi-best friend who blew things up in her spare time. What more could a super-hero ask for?

 


	2. In Which A Partnership is Born

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy invents some new toys...

“Hey dude.”

 

Peter glanced over at Darcy as he straightened up from where he was crouching on the floor. He'd swung into the 50th story workshop via the broken window normally covered by cardboard. Well, formerly covered by cardboard. He wasn't sure Darcy was bothering to cover the window anymore except maybe when she wasn't in the shop (which was pretty much never from what he'd seen; she even had a cot in there).

 

“Hey Darcy,” greeted Peter, wondering a little how she'd known he was there.

 

“How was the night shift?” asked Darcy from where she was sitting with her back to him, focusing on something small and delicate looking (also, possibly explosive) on one of her many workbenches.

 

He still wasn't sure why she had so many, but she had insisted there was one the one time he'd asked. Then something had started sparking and they'd both been distracted trying to NOT get blown up, so she hadn't finished explaining. That was also the point where he started thinking Darcy might have been right in her initial assessment of their friendship: they were going to blow something up. And it would probably be big.

 

“Less lively than usual, though the bank robbers tied up down on 47th might be inclined to say otherwise,” replied Peter easily while adjusting his mask. Darcy still didn't know his name or what he looked like, nor had she asked again since that first meeting. He'd come by two other times following his nightly rounds to just chill and hang around (on one occasion literally so Darcy could see how his web launcher worked in action); it was becoming a habit, but he liked that. It was nice to know someone who didn't seem phased by his costume or secrecy. And to be able to talk about his nightly crime-fighting. “How about you? Burning the midnight oil again?”

 

Darcy shrugged slightly, setting her tools carefully aside and flipping up the goggles covering her eyes. “I wouldn't say _again_ so much as...burning the same oil.”

 

“Meaning...” pressed Peter wearily as he crept closer to her workbench. He'd figured out during his second visit that it wasn't safe to approach Darcy while she was working with tools unless you wanted to be set on fire.

 

Another shrug brought her shoulders up and down. “I haven't gone to sleep yet.”

 

Peter felt his head snap to look at her so hard, he was momentarily afraid he might suffer from whiplash. “Uh, isn't that bad?”

 

“As long as Mom doesn't catch me, then no,” replied Darcy casually. “Dad pulls this shit all the time, so he can't say anything. Now if Mom catches me, there will be phrases like 'restricted access' and 'limited lab hours' used. Repeatedly. Although, I am on summer vacation, so she usually lightens up a little around this time.”

 

Peter shook his head. “I'm not sure any parent lightens up enough to allow no sleep for days on end.”

 

“Mine are pretty lenient,” pointed out Darcy, brow furrowing as she apparently noticed something wrong with the device in front of her.

 

 _She's right about that_. Seriously, any parent who let their kid play with wielding torches and potentially dangerous chemicals unsupervised qualifies as lenient. Or neglectful. He really wasn't sure which was the case here, though the way Darcy talked about her parents made them sound plenty attentive. Her father had helped her build most of the equipment in her lab after all.

 

“So, what are you working to night, oh mad inventor friend of mine?” asked Peter, opting to drop the former line of discussion. He's already convinced her family is insane and doesn't really need any more evidence of that right now. Even if they also sound like the coolest people on the planet.

 

Darcy smirked a little, picking up her torch again and soldering something together. “That's Miss Mad Inventor to you, and I'm working on a present for a friend.”

 

Both of Peter's eyebrows rose beneath his mask. A friend? That was a new one. He hadn't actually been aware she _had_ any friends. Well, besides the computer who ran her lab. And him, but given they don't know a lot about each other, he's not sure how much they qualify as friends. Then again, he doesn't know much about her social life beyond the fact that he's not sure she has one, so anything's possible. “Friends are good. I wasn't actually aware you had any that weren't machines. Well, unless you're making something for Josie.”

 

“Not for me, hun,” called Josie from where ever her voice projectors were. Even though Peter had met Josie and even had a long conversation with her the other night, it still surprised him when her southwestern tone came out of nowhere.

 

“Ha, ha, ha,” replied Darcy dryly as she put her wielding torch down again and spun to face him, flipping her goggles on top of her head in the process. “And here I was planning to make you a whole string of new toys.”

 

Well, that sounded slightly ominous. But also epically cool, if Darcy is half the inventor he was pretty sure she is. “Should I be worried?”

 

“Depends, how do you feel about little spider-shaped tracking devices you can throw at people?” asked Darcy in return, a grin forming on her face.

 

“Sounds handy,” replied Peter as he finally moved around to the side of Darcy's workbench. A little device sat in front of her, shaped like a spider down to the little legs. “What are the legs for?”

 

“Attaching to your target.” Darcy stood and moved away from her workbench, motioning for Peter to follow.

 

She wondered over to one of her many computers, the one that created a 3D model projected in the air, and picked up one of her gloves and the wireless keyboard she used to control it. Hitting a few buttons, an expanded image of the device on her workbench materialized in the projection field.

 

“See, I've designed the device to use the legs to latch onto the clothing of your target,” explained Darcy as she hit a button on her keyboard and the legs on the projected version of the device clamped shut. “Careful though, those buggers are sharp and can cut skin.”

 

Glancing at the skin of Darcy's hands, Peter noted the number of cuts and found himself believing her statement about sharp edges. “I'll keep that in mind. Wouldn't want to give myself away by leaving a finger-print somewhere, right?”

 

“Definitely not,” agreed Darcy with a smirk as she pressed another button and the model returned to it's original form.

 

“So how do I track these things?” asked Peter curiously.

 

“Radio signals,” replied Darcy easily. “They'll produce a radio signal at a specific wave length. Now, how you track that signal is gonna be up to you. You've got two lovely, customizable options.”

 

“I'm going to assume that you don't mean the color when you say 'customizable'.” Peter's gaze falls to the bug on the table. There's no paint on it now, but he can guess what Darcy's probably got in mind for that part.

 

“Paint is optional,” replied Darcy with a shrug. “I'll explain that one in a minute. Back to the signal tracker.” Spinning around to face Peter, she sets the keyboard aside and leveled her blue eyes on him over the edge of her glasses. “Like I said, two options.” One arm crosses just below her chest while the hand of the other rises so her closed fist is nearly level with her chin. The index finger of the raised hand flicks out like she's pointing at something, palm facing up. “Option one is that I build you a gizmo that can track the signals.” Her middle finger unfolds next to her index. “Option two is having Josie track the signals and relay the information to you.”

 

Beneath his mask, both of Peter's eyebrows shot up. She was offering to give him access to Josie? That was new. And unexpected. Josie is her proverbial baby, companion, and support staff. This isn't an offer she's going to make lightly. “Wow, really?”

 

One of her eyebrows rose, giving him the 'I need more information to understand what you're talking about' look. “Really what?”

 

“You'd really let me use Josie?” explained Peter, shock probably evident in his voice.

 

Darcy scoffed a little, nodding. “Uh, duh. I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't being serious. Mom taught me never to make an offer to anyone you aren't willing to honor. Well, so did Dad, but that's because he makes you honor every offer you make him. He's scary like that.”

 

“Remind me never to piss off your folks,” groaned Peter. Seriously, her parents sounded scary. And might be connected to Tony Stark, who was probably more freaky in some ways than most of the villains he faced on a nightly basis. The man had a seriously twisted way of getting back at people. “Or meet them. Or be in the same room as them. In fact, lets just mark them off as 'avoid at all costs'.”

 

“They aren't _that_ bad,” insisted Darcy as she gestured at the model with the hand still holding up two fingers. “Now, can you decide how you want to do this? Otherwise, I'll decide for you.”

 

“Josie,” replied Peter instantly. It wasn't much of a choice. “If you're willing to let me team up with her, I wouldn't mind having a super-computer AI at my back.”

 

“'Course not,” stated Darcy with a shrug. “You do some good things out there, Spidy, and I'm always willing to help good people do good things.”

 

“Which is why you build the good guys random gear?” teased Peter as he stepped over to the workbench to look at the bug while Darcy scooped back up her keyboard and refocused on the model.

 

“That and I was board and had an idea,” threw back Darcy with a touch of a grin. “Well, I had a few ideas but Mom doesn't let me play with military grade explosives yet. Or construction grade explosives. Or any chemicals with an NFPA rating above 2. Or metals with a melting point above 1800 degrees Celsius. Which, really, still leaves me with some pretty useful stuff and Dad's always willing to let me work the materials in his lab, I'm just not allowed to play with the stuff in here.”

 

“Aw, but where's the fun in playing with dangerous chemicals and metals while supervised by a responsible adult?” joked back Peter with a shake of his head.

 

Darcy glances at him over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Who said anything about being supervised? Or about my Dad being responsible? I'm pretty sure I'm more responsible than _he_ is.”

 

“That's a very scary thought,” stated Peter with a slight wince.

 

“Tell me about it,” sighed Darcy as she turned back to her computer. “Alright, I'm going to fast-track the communicator I'm making so you can talk with Josie or me while you're out swinging around. I should have it done tomorrow night. Now, about the color scheme for the spider trackers...”

**Author's Note:**

> There are more parts to this particular friendship which are currently in progress. I just don't know when any of them will get done.


End file.
